Kishore Kumar Hits

Ghostface Killah - Burner to Burner lyrics

Artist: Ghostface Killah

album: Ghostface Killahs


Yeah, baby
You know what it is, Yap City
All day, c'mon
This shit make you wanna smack somethin' off top
Word up, check it
Yeah, y'all niggas is goin' to hell, yo
I pledge allegiance to crime, right hand on the burner
Death to all cornball niggas who wanna turn up
I call it gettin' it in, you call it animosity
Listen, you could never match my velocity
Too much stamina, glitter in front of cameras
On the red carpet, still clean your clock like a janitor
Favorite Pac joint was "I Ain't Mad At'cha"
Skinny jean faggot, you ain't man enough
You ain't got the heart to snuff, plus cut stab or bust
We wrestle down elephants, 200 grand per tusk
The ball spinnin', spillin' spades on Asian women
Love them pretty black joints, lil' Malaysian in 'em
Ghost got a gambling habit, I burn bookies
Smack so many promoters out here, they scared to book me
Scared to book niggas, your highness
Diamonds on the Yankee sign, dirt on the camo
6 stones floodin' the left hand like Thanos
While you sambos dance to Bo Jangles
I'm verified, toastin' on boats with hoes, damsels
Yeah, son, I'm loving the hate
Why I keep knife on me, so I'm sure to get a cut of the cake
Now my name hold double the weight
That's an actual fact
Them million plus motherfuckers relate
Yeah, I'm on them heavy bags like Deontay
And I'm wild caught, ya'll niggas farm-raised
For 50 cent, I went to war with many men
Then slap 'em with the jacket like Benny Hinn
I'm hittin' that jet fuel, you're new in the game, lame
You'll never use Deck for a step stool
They don't wanna hear that shit, they want Dorothy
Fire comin' outta my mouth, that's an arsony
I'm so hood, tossed the nine when I left it
Rubber bands wrapped around my darts the more I stretch it
When it come back, I pop that sucker shit
I smoke blunts and I spit on that rhetoric
Original ties in, S.I. gutter
Let's get it right, fuck you and your brother
My raps in the back of your head like two mufflers
So pull your dress up, your raps ain't tough enough
Niggas cuddle up with the wife, they can't come out
I be at he club all night, I might dumb out
You fuck around with big dogs, ain't no bark here
Fuck you and your friends, nigga, you can't park here
My sword indeed make more niggas bleed
Leave it to the specialists, we mean business
Come and get some, you want none
I hit Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix
(Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix)

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